Shura
by Makemegray
Summary: Various one-shots and drabbles based on the series, mostly 8059 centric but some random ones as well. Things that occur to me while going through the series. #2: Cosa Farai: Irie Shouichi had developed an irriational fear of Italians lately...
1. Shura

**_Shura_**

_Disclaimer: _I think it's obvious that I don't own KHR, otherwise Gokudera and Yamamoto would have been hitting the mat in various ways by episode 12.

_Pairings/Characters: _Gokudera Hayato/Yamamoto Takeshi, lightly

_Warnings: _Gokudera's mouth again, even more so, not really serious

_Notes: _Like I promised, a little more angst but come to think of it, barely there slash, you could ignore it if you wanted to but given their attitudes towards each other I think you can tell that things are...different between them. A fulfillment of what I essentially want to see one day in the manga (since Gokudera is smoking and doesn't in the anime) Set after the Future Arc, or rather...a different future...yet...before it...if that makes sense...I think it does. Four years after the start of the series.

* * *

"That stuff is going to kill you one day..."

"Che." The obligatory response of "_like I haven't heard that before"_ was left hanging in the air as Yamamoto sunk down the wall next to Gokudera, ignoring the warning snarl he received for his efforts.

"...Ne, Gokudera..." He began after several minutes of sitting, watching the sun dip below the horizon. "I don't think Sawada-san's going to appreciate you getting blood all over the fence. People are going to start talking about gangsters living here or something."

"...Shut up." Was the reply, no mention of the joke that had Yamamoto grinning faintly.

"This game just keeps getting more dangerous as the days go by, huh? Can you even see out of that eye anymore?" Gokudera sighed and swiped the sleeve of his shirt across the gash that split his left eyebrow in two, momentarily stemming the blood flowing into his eye before it started again.

"It's fine. I only need one eye to see." Yamamoto raised an eyebrow at that, surveying the rest of his comrade's body with a quick glance, taking in a patchwork of white, black and crimson.

"Is Tsuna not home? And what they hell happened to you anyway?"

"...De Gallo..." The first question being neatly avoided by answering the second, Gokudera had named a _famiglia_ that the Vongola were having particular trouble with at the moment.

"Gokudera...Where is Tsuna?" Yamamoto demanded to know, eyebrows furrowing, panic beginning to set in from the air of...nothing-ness that shrouded the other man. He seemed to have completely given up his usual verbal sparring with the other guardian and that was the thing that was bothering Yamamoto most of all, not even his disregard of his injuries. Usually, he would have been answering every one of the questions with an indignant curse and then whipping sticks of dynamite out. The only regular mannerism that he seemed to be retaining in his current state being the cigarette hanging nearly forgotten from the corner of his mouth.

"...Hibari and Sasagawa took him to the hospital...The bullet didn't hit anything major, the doctors say he's going to live...Probably..."

"Probably?! Just what the hell was going on? Why didn't you call me?!" Gokudera sighed and pulled his knees to his chest, letting his head drop between them.

"Takeshi..." More than the action, the use of his first name startled Yamamoto out of any further questioning. "I think I'm gonna be sick..." He sighed and pulled himself to his feet, dragging Gokudera up with him. He wrapped an arm around Gokudera's waist, mindful of the injury that was soaking his shirt with blood while Gokudera took the initiative to fling his arm around Yamamoto's shoulder.

"If you are, can you at least warn me so I can put you down?" Gokudera chuckled darkly as they began to hobble down the street

"I'll try."

He didn't have to, as it turned out and they were able to make it to second landing on the steps of Gokudera's apartment building before the dizziness of blood loss provided the need to sit before braving the journey to the fourth story.

"Why didn't you just follow them to the hospital?"

"It's only a few scratches; I don't need to go to the hospital for that. Especially since they would just call Bianchi as my next of kin..." Yamamoto raised an eyebrow and sat on his haunches in front of the shorter man. Silently appraising him before poking him firmly in the area where the blood was still spreading on his side, causing him to gasp and double over as his eyes crossed in pain.

"_M-merda!_ What the hell was that for?!" Getting the urge to punch the smug smirk right off of Yamamoto's face but knowing he would probably pass out before he accomplished it.

"Should I drive?" Gokudera responded with a glare before using the railing of the landing to lever himself up and using it attempting to the rest of the journey by himself, though only offering a customary snarl when Yamamoto took up his earlier position.

"Where were you today anyway? You left early." Gokudera could feel the tensing in Yamamoto's shoulders before that breezy laughed emerged. The one that would have accompanied him rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, reacting to an unspoken accusation.

"Well, one of the busboys quit and I had to fill in for him. I told Tsuna..." That would have normally been the end of the conversation; with Gokudera mumbling something about the information being good enough for Jyuudaime then it was good enough for him. Yamamoto could tell that somehow the circumstances were different this time, however. "You were in Shamal's office..." He supplied in an attempt to forestall the temper he could see in the tick of Gokudera's eyebrow.

"...It's not Juudaime's responsibility to keep track of his subordinates. You should have just left a message on my phone." Yamamoto didn't reply, only offered a sigh in response as they neared the top of the stairwell.

"You don't always have to talk about the game, y'know. We can have a normal conversation without it always coming up."

Gokudera was stunned into silence as they reached the top of the stairs.

"'Game'?"

Yamamoto looked askance at him like he had suddenly declared loyalty to the Millefiori as they shuffled down the hallway.

"Yeah, the 'Game', the one we play with Tsuna, Hibari-san, Sasagawa-senpai and the others? The Mafia game?"

Gokudera was couldn't think of anything to say in response to that as he fumbled with his keys, trying to unlock the door with hands bloody and jittery with exhaustion.

"Yamamoto...Let me ask you..."He was finally able to groan out, after they had stumbled through the door and nearly collapsed side by side on the couch in his living room (he shuddered to think what the blood was doing to the Italian leather) "What exactly is it that you think we do? What we are, what Juudaime is and what we are to him."

Yamamoto smiled indulgently and patted him on the thigh as he stood up and left the room. Gokudera experienced a distinct feeling on dread even before he heard the answer called out from the kitchen of his apartment, as the other Guardian went about searching for the first aid kit he knew would be under the sink.

"We're Team Vongola, of course! Tsuna is team captain and we're the team that supports him." Yamamoto replied as he sank down to his haunches in front of the couch, assessing which wound needed to be taken care of first

Had Gokudera the facilities to do so, he would have face planted then and there. Instead, he groaned again and let his head fall back against the couch cushions in incredulity. Tsuna may have been content to coddle his Rain Guardians sensibilities but Gokudera just couldn't take it anymore. It would be the first time he had ever gone against something Juudaime decided to do. He knew he would have to apologize thoroughly later.

"Yamamoto...Takeshi...What the hell is wrong with you?! Shouldn't the Ring battle have been enough to convince you how real this is?! And the Millefiori?! We lose 6 years from now! Juudaime is dead and the Vongola are hunted like dogs or don't you remember that?!" He demanded to know, pushing Yamamoto's hands away as he attempted to undo the buttons of the ruined uniform shirt and eventually giving in to the swordsman's quicker motions.

Yamamoto understood now, though. What had startled Gokudera so much this time. Why this assassination attempt had been different, even though it had failed like all the others. He'd thought it was 'The One'. The one where they finally lost. Even though the future had been changed, Gokudera was still blaming himself for the fact that the Millefiori had been able to ambush Tsuna. He was convinced that inevitably the Guardians, more specifically the Storm Guardian, would fail.

Gokudera hissed in pain as the alcohol met the torn flesh on his side, where a nostalgically mundane knife had grazed him as he attempted to shield his boss. Yamamoto deemed that a large adhesive bandage was enough to prevent infection and further injury to the shallow scratch.

"Understood, you don't want to lose. We won't. We haven't so far. Not with Tsuna as our Captain." Gokudera raised his unmarred eyebrow as Yamamoto went about cleaning the injured one.

"...I know Juudaime doesn't want to make it clear to you...But I tried hinting at it, I have for years...I might as well just say it...Yamamoto..." _back to last names..._, the Rain Guardian thought absently "You have to realize that this is not a game. Like I said, you should have been convinced already but...I just need to know if you realize that we really are the Mafia. _La Cosa Nostra_. That Juudaime is the boss of the Vongola famiglia and that the guardians operate as his underbosses."

Yamamoto gave him another of those indulgent looks and that feeling of dread was back.

"Of course we are, Hayato." Patting him on the head, before pressing gauze to his head wound and wrapping a cloth bandage around his head to keep it in place.

"Yamamoto!" Gokudera growled, glaring as much as he was able with his forehead covered.

"Honestly, Hayato, do you really think I'm that stupid?" He asked as he wandered back to the kitchen, hands bloody and returned moments later with a wet rag to clean up the rest of the gore. "That I wouldn't have realized it? Tsuna seems to think so as well, it's really discouraging. I would have expected it from him, but I thought you were supposed to be the intelligent one, or is that limited to things like math and science? You don't get analogies?"

Gokudera gaped, trying to find the words to reply indignantly to the dig but couldn't

"Y-Yamamoto...?"

The black haired boy looked up from where he was cleaning stray blood from the first aid kit where his hands had met it and narrowed his eyes, serious for the first time in the conversation, with an expression that Gokudera recognized as his battle mode.

"You would have just sat there and bled to unconsciousness if I hadn't been checking the house wouldn't you. It wasn't very deep but head wounds still bleed more than anywhere else. I thought you'd gotten over this stupid disregard for your own life. I thought I'd made it clear how I felt about stuff like that? Who knows what will happen next time you pull something like this?"

Despite the sincerity of Yamamoto's statement and expression, Gokudera was still a little suspicious. He'd been fooled before that Yamamoto had understood the situation.

"...What convinced you...?" He asked, quietly, ignoring the accusation and barely veiled threat.

Yamamoto sighed as he closed the kit and returned to the kitchen to replace it and dispose of the bloody clothe

"What other game would possibly leave you in a condition like this?"

"...Baseball maybe...?" Gokudera tried weakly.

Yamamoto snorted and resumed his place next to his partner on the couch. Folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes.

"..Oi...Don't fall asleep here. Go home!"

"...Shut up...I'm tired of carrying your stupid ass up the stairs. Besides...it wasn't the one, Hayato." He ignored the start from the couches other occupant at the statement that pretty much showed how much Yamamoto knew the other guardian. "Tsuna's safe. Besides, remember that last ranking that Fuuta gave him? 'Mafiosi most likely to die in a freak accident'?"

Gokudera was reduced to gaping once again with the comment.

"Is that supposed to be comforting?!"

Yamamoto chuckled and reached over to card his hand through his partner's ash gray hair, ignoring the snarl he received for his efforts, resting his hand at the back of Gokudera's neck.

"I think we have more to worry about you dying from neglecting your injuries and Tsuna dying from a freak accident. You're ranked 3 for 'Mafiosi most likely to die from sepsis'."

"...Why do you know all of these random rankings? I can't remember half of them..."

Yamamoto shrugged.

"It's always good to know the statistics of your fellow players."

* * *

More notes: So, this is the first. It's a one-shot series of things a thought about while watching the anime and reading the manga. Most will be 8059-centric or at least mention it since they're my favorites, but there will be a few random ones that are just things that occurred to me.

Eh...Translation note..._merda _is shit in Italian, Gokudera will occasionally slip into during this series, which I think is only logical since it's his first language and because it's one of the languages I'm learning.

Yamamoto...I don't think he's too out of character...My opinion in the matter is based on chapters 150-151 where he basically get's uber pissed at Gokudera (for some reason one of my favorite parts in the series), especially the fact that knocks the shit out of Gokudera for his attitude. I loved it!

Gokudera is...self-explanatory...

More to come, R&R please!


	2. Cosa Farai

**Shura:** Cosa Farai?

_Pairings/Characters: _Irie Souichi and nameless members of the Gesso famiglia

_Warnings: _Conjecture, Hypothesis, and speculation. Smatterings of Italian.

_Notes: _So...Lets explain my rationale for this one before we get started. There had to be something, _something_ that acted as a catalyst for Irie to work for Millefiore, and as of what I've read on 4/02/08, the manga hasn't divulged that. I then came to the conjecture that since the Bovino were watching Lambo's dealings enough that they were able to impart Italian goods and apologies on the Irie family, that it's not far-fetched at all for more than just them to have known about him. I reasoned that obvious, anyone wanted to tear down Vongola would be keeping insanely close tabs on all the guardians since Tsuna and Reborn came in contact with them. Especially when they became the legitimate successors. ESPECIALLY CLOSELY INSANE WATCH. So, then following that rationale, it's obvious that Irie would be watched as well for coming into contact with Lambo, who is still a guardian, no matter how inept. So...seeking to discover weaknesses in the Vongola, logically, the Millefiore would go to someone who would be useful to them as well as might have seen into something that one could only see if they had personal contact with them. So..._Cosa Farai?_

* * *

At the age of 18 years, 3 months and 27 days old, Irie Souichi was sitting in the small interrogation room of the Namimori 2nd district police station.

He interrupted his staring contest with the lead detective on his case to clean his glasses off on the sweater of his high school uniform.

The detective was about to growl out a command or disparaging remark when there was an insistent knock on the door and a uniformed officer stuck his head in, gesturing impatiently for the detective to come to the door. That this had officially turned into an international incident and that the Namimori police were about to be taken off the case for agents from Interpol to take it instead.

The detective looked askance at Souichi, who simply smiled in response, and got up from his seat, mumbling something about where Interpol could stick their international incidents, and closing the door behind himself.

Ten minutes later, the door opened again, and two foreign men dressed smartly in black suits that seemed way too expensive for someone on a government salary walked in the room, all smiles.

Souichi was immediately put on guard. The last time he had had any contact with foreigners like these had not turned out a pleasant experience for him.

They exchanged a brief word with each other a language he immediately recognized and his morbid fear of Italians started to kick-in.

"Eh- Irie Souichi?" Said the taller of them, brunette, pulling off his sunglasses to reveal hazel eyes and speaking in the lyrical cadence of those native to latin countries.

"...Yes..." The taller one nodded and looked to his companion. A blond, who sat down across the table from him. Leaving his glasses in place.

"You're sweating, Irie-san. Is there something the matter?"

"...N-Nothing at all!" He answered, after a quick mental debate about what about himself he should and shouldn't reveal.

"Glad to hear it! Now, Irie-san, I hear that you've been giving the poor Namimori citizens a bit of trouble recently." The blond said, an eyebrow rising over his glasses.

Souichi laughed thinly, pride in his work boosting his courage a little.

"You might say that."

"I might, yes. Once might also say that you're quite a little pain in the ass as well, right?"

"There are some that say that as well, I suppose."

"And there are others who might call you something of a genius."

"There might be. That would depend on who these others might or might not be, would it or would it not?"

The brunette grinned while the blond frowned, obviously not able to follow the circular Japanese that the conversation was going in.

"...Very well, Irie-san," The brunette said "Why don't we just cut to the chase, eh? You're a hacker."

"Possibly."

"You rewired the displays on the Tokyo 109 building to broadcast pornographic movies for three hours last spring before you got bored. No one could figure out how to fix the damage over the bug you entered into their systems."

"..."

"You took over the broadcasting system at your high school last month and broadcasted recordings of satanic spells over the loud speaker. They had to evacuate the school for fear of creating a panic."

"..."

"And this last incident. The one that got you caught. You emailed photographs of several key Diet members in compromising positions to every major newspaper in the country."

"Are you asking if I did it or telling me that you know I did?"

"You and I both know the answer to that already, I think." He looked back at the file in his hands, flipping through it with something of an amused expression before turning back to Souichi, who was desperately trying to keep his facial expressions in control when he wanted to panic and run out of the room.

"What exactly are you accusing me of?" He asked, pleased that his voice didn't crack

"Nothing really. I'm just trying to make sure our facts are the same. You've been operating under the name 'Millefiori' for the duration of you career, correct?"

"..."

"I'm just curious as to why you chose that name? Why Italian?"

"No specific reason..." Shouichi replied, deciding that it might be worthwhile to divulge something, if anything, to get these agents to the same in return.

The brunettes grin widened.

"I'm just curious as to if you know what it means?"

" 'A million Flowers', Why do you ask?"

"No specific Curious. Let me ask you another question. Have you ever heard of something called 'The 10-year-bazooka'?" The name somehow filled Souichi with a bottomless feeling of dread. He'd heard it somewhere before, but just couldn't get his mind around where...

"No, why would have?"

"No specific reason." The two Italian men exchanged another glance before turning to look at the camera in the corner of the room. The blond took a cellular phone from his pocket and spoke into his. Rapid, gliding, Italian that had Shouichi crossing his eyes in concentration trying to follow it with the little of the language he knew.

"What does all of this have to do with my case?"

The brunette held a finger up before glancing back to his partner who ended his conversation with a gruff "Ciao" before nodding in response to the brunette's unspoken question.

"Let me be completely frank for a minute, Irie-san, now that the cameras are off. We aren't with Interpol. The organization we work for is very curious about you. Your expertise in your field as well as let's say...your encounters with slightly more eccentric than usual people that currently occupy this city. They are...Let's say...Business rivals of ours that we seek to...let's say...buy out."

"...'buy out'..."

"Yes." The brunette man agreed, smiling again.

"And what does this have to do with me?"

"We'd like to hire you to work in a specialized department of our organization."

"...Er...Okay...I guess...How much will I get paid?"

"It's determined on commission. So, if you accept then we'll be in contact, Irie-san. It was a pleasure to talk to you, this afternoon. Your record will be expunged of all charges on behalf of our organization and I hope to be able to work with you again in the future." The brunette man said, standing up and holding his hand out to Shouichi to shake.

"Who are you guys anyway? This seems a little shady..." The brunette smiled again, showing all of his teeth and flipping his suit jacket open to reveal the gun in his shoulder holster.

"Of course, Irie-san. We are the Mafia after all. Though if you say a word about this to anyone, they won't be able to identify your body when they fish it out of Tokyo bay. Have a nice evening"

* * *

More notes: Really, I said all I wanted to say. Translation thing though, Cosa Farai is "What are you going to do?" in the Future tense.


End file.
